


Day 512

by Waldo



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Angst, M/M, Post-Children of Earth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-12
Updated: 2009-07-12
Packaged: 2017-10-03 07:05:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waldo/pseuds/Waldo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's 512 days after the 4-5-6 made contact.  Gwen has delivered and Rhys is a stay-at-home dad, because Jack has come back and put Torchwood back together.  Now if only someone could do the same for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day 512

He could only explain it as a ‘space-walrus’.  One that could projectile vomit sulfuric acid, as Jack had just found out. 

His face was eaten half away but he managed to get Gwen to shoot him in the brainstem to stop the pain and accelerate the healing.  She’d read him the riot act again when he woke back up – chewing him out for looking for reason after reason to die - but he’d lie and get pissed at her like he’d been.  He couldn’t tell her the truth.  She’d taken to calling him irresponsible and reckless and said that even his luck had to run out eventually, but he was terrified that if he told her the truth she’d either think he’d finally cracked or try to find out for herself. 

When the bullet snapped his brainstem in two, the hurting finally stopped.  For a moment.

He heard a sigh from behind him.  “She may have a point you know.  You don’t have to go _looking_ for ways to die.  They find you eventually.  And it would cause her and Lois a lot less grief.”

Jack shrugged.  “I miss you.”

He heard the clicking of a pair of polished dress shoes against a floor, even though Jack didn’t think there was a floor.  He knew there were no walls or ceiling or anything else.  Just blackness.  But he supposed that even with his varied experiences, it would be odd for _death_ to be hanging in midair.  So there was a floor.

Ianto sat cross-legged in front of him and took his hand.  “I’m not going anywhere.  Even without taking on aliens half-drunk on nitrogen, I think you’ll see me often enough.”

Jack squeezed Ianto’s hand.  “Not nearly enough.”  Jack rubbed his thumb over the top of Ianto’s hand.  “I have a question for you.”  He should have asked sooner, but he’d been afraid of the answer.  He was still afraid, but the question had been gnawing on him lately.

Ianto noticed that Jack was starting to dim.  That first spark of life would be coming into him now.  He’d be drawing that first breath soon.  However he died this time, it wasn’t something that would take him long to recover from.  It wasn’t a bomb in his belly and the collapse of the Hub around what was left of him.

“If I find him – the Doctor – if I can find him and get him to bring me back to that day, would you have me leave you with Gwen?  Would you want me to save – “

  
Jack took a loud, ragged breath and bolted up right.  His timing sucked.  Or maybe not.  Maybe the best thing was to give Ianto some time to think about his answer while Jack resumed the frenzied hunt for the Doctor that he’d given up after the last time he’d found him.  He’d need to be ready when Ianto was.  After all, he knew the allure death could hold, as someone who could never have it.  He needed Ianto to decide if life really did trump death.


End file.
